


Yours, Truly

by uruhead



Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, RPF - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, D/s, Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Self-Doubt, Small Abuse, Toys, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uruhead/pseuds/uruhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom knows Chris likes it when Tom is submissive. They started out with a safe word; why hadn't he used it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours, Truly

Tom's hands held fast to the table, the palms trying to squeeze the mahogany lest it might give him some relief. He wasn't allowed to beg, plead, speak, not until Chris said so, not until he was broken. Chris did this far too often. Each little piece of him was broken, taking the cracked pieces of him and stepping on them again until he broke down in sobs.

The toy inside him hummed with life, a hummingbird collecting nectar from the apple blossoms in summer, though Tom could only think of the way his thighs pressed together hard, feeling as if he were about to explode, like his stomach hurt and he just needed to lie down for an hour with a book and a bowl of mum's chicken noodle. This had no motherly remedy, though. Tom bit back moan, choking on it and pressing his forehead to the table, feeling the tears run off of his eyelashes and splash to the dark wood. Some ran down his forehead and dripped off of there. Concentrating didn't help.

His toes fidgeted awkwardly and he turned his head to the side, legs adjusting and his body racked with shivers once again. A withering whine came from his throat and he pulled his hand down to cover his eyes, feeling... broken, to say the least.

"Humiliated," Chris said softly, coming up behind his friend and rubbing his shoulders, the warmth of his hands making Tom relax a little. "Crushed. Humbled. Are those good words to describe how you feel?"

Tom felt the breath leave him swiftly, and more tears ran down his cheeks. He nodded his head.

"What are you?" Chris asked.

"Hu...miliated," the older man turned his head to the other side, burying his nose into his elbow. "Tortured."

"Not 'how are you feeling,' Thomas.  _What are you?_ "

He had to think about it. What was he? He was male, he was a man. He was a man who had the will to fight, and yet he didn't. Why?

"A m-man..." Tom whispered in reply, testing his luck.

Chris tilted his head and kissed his cheek, though it wasn't all chaste and gentle.The scratch of his beard left Tom closing his eyes and his heart beating faster. "I am a man. What are you?"

"I-I am a man..!" Tom said a bit loudly, though he knew it would only fuel Chris more. Why was he doing this to himself?

"A man?" Strong hands squeezed his shoulders tight. "A man doesn't break. A man doesn't cry, or howl, or whine."

Chris tugged the chair out from under the older man, watching him fall to the ground with a sharp shout of pain when the toy pressed hard, hard on his insides.

Chris just continued. "A man doesn't have a _pussy._ " He pressed his foot between Tom's legs, feeling the end of the vibrator and pulling his leg back when he felt that it was still doing its purpose. "What are you?"

He knew what Chris wanted him to say. He knew what he was, he knew that Chris wanted him to know, deep to the core, what he was. Tom brought his palm up to his eyes, crying into it with a sadness only a child could express. "A bitch! I-I'm a bitch!"

"And who do you belong to?" Chris mumbled the question, a sinister growl coming form his chest and making Tom want to melt.

He had to remind himself, this was just a game. It was all, all just a game that Chris was playing. They started out with the safety word, they never used it, and still, Tom didn't use it. He knew this is what Chris liked, and it's what he liked, too, right? He liked this game. He loved this game. It made him feel good, somewhere, he felt it. Somewhere.

"... You," Tom's voice was shredded with disbelief, with a hatred, though he chided himself for that. He didn't hate Chris. His arm wrapped around his body and he shifted onto his hip, still shaking. "I-I'm your bitch."


End file.
